


The Double Life of Marlene McKinnon

by JuliaBrownen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBrownen/pseuds/JuliaBrownen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dumbledore proposed this mission, he would have never assumed Marlene would take it as far as she had.  The witch was dedicated; they had to giver her that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 

“So, tell me about him,” he huffed.

“Merlin’s sake, Sirius, drop the subject. I will not talk about him when I’m in bed with you.”

It’s not like Sirius actually wanted to hear about the gory details of what went on between another man and his girlfriend.

Marlene was lying beside him, her flat stomach rising and falling as she puffed on the cigarette that they always shared post-coital. He loved the way she indulged in her bad habits around him; how she wasn’t afraid of just being herself when they were together. There was a façade she kept up; a wall she built to keep hidden from the rest of the world. As much as Marlene tried to hide behind her wall, the witch had let Sirius in. Whether or not he was deserving of such a privilege was another matter entirely.

So, Sirius knew things about the witch that others did not. Smoking a cigarette after raunchy sex – that was something only he was privy to.

Or was he?

Jealousy pushed Sirius to pester Marlene about him.

“Just tell me what the two of you do on these ‘dates’. I can’t imagine he is the best conversationalist.”

Marlene propped herself up on her elbows letting her head fall back in laughter. She sat up, coming forward to invade his personal space; cigarette smoke escaping her lips as she clicked her tongue, “No, Henry Travers has never been one for conversation. I’m mainly just eye candy for him to show off to his friends.”

The wizard relaxed. Not that her announcement made him feel any better. When Dumbledore had proposed this mission, he would have never assumed Marlene would take it as far as she had. The witch was dedicated; they had to give her that.

With a final heave, the cigarette bud was extinguished in a makeshift ashtray on the nightstand. Sirius caught his girlfriend’s arm as she moved to leave the bed. Her hazel eyes found his, and her expressive mouth tugged up in amusement. Bringing her lips to his, Marlene began to settle onto his lap. He welcomed her, wrapping his arms around her buttocks, praying that his magnetism would somehow jinx her into remaining here forever. It was a silly thing to hope for, when so much else was happening in this world. But, Sirius was only a man in love (though he wouldn’t realize it until too late) with a girl.

For now, Sirius could only kiss her and enjoy the notion that she would smoke another cigarette with him after they were done.


	2. Victor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the War was won, and the Order came out victorious over the Dark Lord, Marlene could write her past however she saw fit. Victors decided how history was remembered.

The walk back to her flat after a long day’s work was her favorite part of her day. It was not the most interesting, or even the most adventurous part of her day. Indeed, it was actually quite boring which was why Marlene enjoyed it. Boring was an underappreciated quality. Too many people were wrapped up in the notion of living exciting lives. Excitement was overrated.

If there was some potion, or spell, she could employ that would rid her world of excitement, Marlene would employ it in a heartbeat.

Her flat was located off Portobello Rd. in Notting Hill, a hand-me-down from a great-great uncle that had recently passed. Moving out of her childhood home into her own place had become a necessity once she had accepted Dumbledore’s proposition. A double-life would have been difficult to juggle under the watchful and disapproving eye of her mother. All that her family knew was that Marlene worked at the Ministry as a junior assistant to Barty Crouch. Her mother wouldn’t approve of the Order. Annette McKinnon was too connected within Pure Blood society to cross loyal followers of the Dark Lord. If Mrs. McKinnon knew that her only daughter was acting as a mole to gain intel into Death Eater activities while also maintaining a carnal relationship with a blood traitor like Sirius Black, she would likely die from shock.

Again, a boring life would be much welcomed.

It was beginning to sleet. The sidewalks cleared as Muggles made their way into the sanctuary of their homes, or nearby pubs. Marlene brought up her hood to protect her face from the cold; fortunately, her flat was only two more blocks away.

As she approached her residence, Marlene felt a lick of magic on her heels.

“Welcome home, Miss McKinnon.”

She didn’t need to turn around to know who addressed her. Henry Travers had a distinct resonance in his voice that created a permanent pit in her stomach, “Hello Henry, I wasn’t expecting you this evening.”

No response was offered.  All he did was place an arm around her shoulder. Marlene did not recoil at the touch of a man who had tortured dozens of people. Instead she leaned into his touch swallowing the hard lump that had formed in her throat. They walked this way until the pair came upon a narrow alleyway sandwiched in between two red brick buildings. She removed her wand from her coat pocket while Travers kept lookout. Tapping several cobblestones in a careful pattern, Marlene’s front door sprouted from the ground.

Travers held the door open while Marlene crossed through the threshold. To the Muggle eye, her flat was invisible; just an empty alleyway. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The flame of her fireplace ignited on cue while hot water began to boil on the stove for tea. Her flat had been decorated by her mother in ornate jewel tones with hand-carved mahogany furniture. It was a bit stuffy for her taste, but Marlene savored the independence. Besides, it presented a perfect façade for the company she entertained.

As the witch peeled off her damp clothing, she studied Travers out of the corner of her eye. The Death Eater was thin like a reed and handsome when not frowning (which he was perpetually doing). His beard was well-maintained, and his dark brown hair was brushed back to curl at his neck. When not wearing his Death Eater robes, which he wasn’t at the moment, Travers favored tailored suits in muted colors. He was peeling off the greatcoat he wore revealing a black collared shirt and matching vest.

The wizard caught her peeping at him and a salacious smile crept onto his face, “Like what you see Miss McKinnon.”

She rolled her eyes in a disinterested fashion, crossing the sitting room to occupy herself in the kitchen. Her hands were shaking from nerves. It was ridiculous how anxious she became in Henry Travers’ presence. He was just a man.

 _A very dangerous man_ , her brain reminded her.

Dumbledore’s direct assignment had been to ‘befriend’ Travers. In no way had her former headmaster suggested that Marlene entertain the man…physically. That point was neither here, nor there. She was too deep to back out now. Besides, people she cared about were counting on the information she gathered. Sirius teased that she should’ve been a Gryffindor for her courageousness. It wasn’t courage that pushed her towards Henry Travers. It was loyalty; loyalty to her friends, to Lily Potter and her newly born child.

“Miss McKinnon, I asked you a question.”

Marlene was pulled from her meditation and jerked up, “Hm, what? I’m sorry, I was busying with the teat thing. What did you say Henry?”

“I was asking you whether you would accompany me to the birthday party for Lucius Malfoy’s son. I’m sure you’re aware of it,” Travers quipped. He hated repeating himself. Four months she had spent learning his quirks, she should’ve known better than to let her mind wander. Marlene forced a spirit of cheer, her shining grin appearing to mask her frustration, “No I hadn’t heard, but I’d love to join you. What attire is required?”

“Dress robes will suffice.”

Marlene nodded pouring the steeped tea from the kettle. A plate of cookies floated in the air ahead of her as she carried the tea tray to the couch where Travers was lounging. She leaned over to set the tray down purposefully dipping low so that her bottom was presented at an advantage. Her simple pencil skirt showcased her petite frame and her lace camisole was still damp, clinging to her thin shoulders. As she sat beside him, pressing her stocking covered knee against his outstretched leg, Marlene coyly smiled.

That was all that was needed for it to begin.

  
Travers’ hand crept to her leg. His fingers drew patterns on the expanse of her thigh. She shivered, both from cold and the touch of his hand. When he lent forward to press his lips against hers, Marlene closed her eyes and cleared her mind. His kisses weren’t unpleasant. They were forceful and passionate. He was an experienced man, nearly a whole decade older than herself. Was she terrible for succumbing to his attentions?

 _Yes_ , was her mind’s curt retort.  She had Sirius.

Sirius knew nothing of her real affair with Travers. She joked and jested about her time with the Death Eater to alleviate Sirius’ concern. Marlene had been raised to be courteous of other’s feelings, to make sure those around her were comfortable even to her own detriment. Sometimes this alias ate away at her. It would be so easy to tell him, but what would he do? Leave her? Tell Dumbledore? She would be kicked out of the Order for crossing the line.

All of this was best kept a secret.

When Travers became overtly attentive to her neck, actions that would leave to an evident bruise, Marlene used her weight to force him back. The Death Eater enjoyed when she took the lead. He was like Sirius in that manner, but it wasn’t fair comparing the two. Marlene sat astride his waist, his upper torso relaxing against the decorative couch pillows. The wizard’s vest had been shed, and his belt was the next to go. Marlene unzipped his trousers; focusing on the task at hand. He was stiff already, her hand felt the hardness that was constrained by his boxers. Travers was watching her. Marlene took a deep breath before revealing his cock. She placed her mouth at the tip, the wizard’s hands fell into her blonde hair. His fingers roughly pulled at the strands. He was inconsiderate sometimes; like when he pushed her head down to try and make her take him deeper into her throat. Marlene resisted the urge to bite down in retaliation.

As she worked him, the witch made a list of the chores that needed doing around her flat; send a letter to her mother, purchase a new cauldron pot, clean the chimney. If she focused too much on what she was doing she would break down. The first time she had slept with Travers, she had rushed off to the bathroom to cry into a hand towel. It was stupid to cry. No one had forced Marlene McKinnon to play this game. She had entered willingly. It was the guilt that ate at her, but she had a goal in mind; an end game.

When the War was won, and the Order came out victorious over the Dark Lord, Marlene could write her past however she saw fit. Victors decided how history was remembered.

Henry Travers left at a quarter after seven o'clock. The sleet had stopped falling and there was ice along the pavement. Marlene had seen him to the door and even kissed him goodbye. That was what a dutiful lover did after spending the evening with a man. The sound of Travers apparating gave her a peace of mind. She closed the door to her flat soundly and breathed a sigh of relief that it was, once again, over. She glanced over at her clothes discarded lazily on the floor next to the forgotten tea things. Those would be dealt with later. There was a more pressing matter to get to.

Rummaging through the nightstand beside her bed, Marlene pulled out a half-used pack of Mayfair cigarettes. She used her wand to light the bud before taking a long drag. She sat on her bed looking up at the skylight above her. She could do this. She would win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just appeared in my head. I'm a slave to the muse.

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I've been wanting to toy with lately. My first post to Archive of Our Own - go easy on me!


End file.
